Cherry Dyed
by LuceyLacie
Summary: Oikawa Tooru was not a genius, but he had a reason to live on, to push on, and to fight. She didn't have any of those, and maybe that was what attracted her to him in the first place. Oikawa x OC


**A/N: Yes, another story but Disclaimer: I do not in any way own Haikyuu, all rights belong to its mangaka. **

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><p><strong>Captivation is what makes you see the prospect of a dream.<strong>

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><p>When she first laid eyes on him, in the middle of a volleyball game-she'll admit she was curious about why he had so many admirers-she'll admit that when her eyes first turned to look at him, she found herself attracted.<p>

Not by his looks but by the intensity of his eyes and the confidence that backed up his skill. Smug, one may call him, but beneath that cheery disposition, she could see a predator polishing its claws, awaiting its next victim. High intelligence and an amazing game sense that lurks beneath those seemingly innocent smiles, she found it… interesting.

Her eyes follow the ball, as it goes over the net repeatedly until it lands earning a team a point, she observes this odd game not paying any attention to the whispers and pointing she's receiving- can't blame them of course, those who have nothing better to do, for looking at her like a display in the zoo.

The whispers seem to be louder than she had originally presumed them to be as she finds that _boy _look in her general direction. The action itself grants her ears deaf as the girls around her-most of them-scream at the hope that he was looking at them. In reality though, she knows whom his eyes pinpoint in the crowd-_her_.

Though as rude as people deem it to be, they stare at each other for what seems to be minutes but is later revealed to be less than such.

Looking into those calculating chocolate-like eyes, she finds amusement at the prospect of his confusion as to who she was. But what catches her attention the most is the ghost of determination lurking behind his confusion, determination she deems he needed for the match.

As much as she'd hate to show it or even say it, she found herself getting entranced by this boy much more than she would have preferred. Regrettably so.

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><p><strong>Inspiration is what tells you to start it.<strong>

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><p>When asked who was she was, they would tell you about her but not sooner you'll notice that it was as if they were just insulting her. Who was she to get mad though, when what they use to describe her was true?<p>

It wasn't hard to spot her in a crowd, with her hair dip dyed with a shade of red much akin to her name and that itself was a sign of her nonchalant-ness with rules and regulations. They can't kick her out though, with her grades soaring like the rainbow and the _generous _donations her family make, she was too much of a useful pawn to easily throw to the side.

For her life was boring indeed, seeing as she had no real reason to live. She wasn't part of any varsity, she didn't have many friends, she wasn't particularly interested in life, nor did she need to work hard for her family but she was breathing. Breathing, blinking, and functioning. But not in any way was she _living_.

So when she wandered into that gym, she'll tell you that she frequently visits now, she watches them play. Tiring, sweating, and panting for a game. A _game _that she thinks is just an intensified version of 'don't let the ball touch the floor'. Every time she watches, she wonders. Every time _he _serves, she wonders. Every point they score, she wonders.

She wonders how they could find the need, the drive, and the push to give all their efforts and pour most of their time into a sport. She wonders, wonders, and wonders but every time she sees the concentration mirrored in his eyes, the reason becomes clear and she finds herself envying him for having such a reason.

It was thanks to him that she started looking for her own reason to go on with life, to actually enjoying being alive. A reason she herself cannot even bring to guess at, all because she found herself captivated by that boy whose name she should probably know by now, but cannot bring herself to ask around for.

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><p><strong>Motivation is what pushes these dreams to become reality.<strong>

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><p>After her visit to the gym where they practice, she walks out knowing that they are done practicing, and as she places one foot after the other, she raises her uniform sleeve to her nose sniffing it and later curling her nose at the slight lingering scent of Salonpas.<p>

Putting one step in front of the other, it is only a matter of time before she reaches her destination, the gates of the school. Leaning against the pillar, letting the soft breeze caress her cheeks, she puts her headphones on while waiting for her older brother to come and fetch her. _'That is if he remembers to fetch me instead of warming up another girl's bed that is.'_

She doesn't know how many minutes or songs pass by as she just stares at the road in front of the school simply observing. Whether it may be people, animals, things or even nothing, she was just observing.

She notes that other girls her age would leave school alone, with a friend, a group of friends or their boyfriend. Some of them actually bother with the social aspect of life she can't even bring herself to consider. At parties her parents drag her to; it was a formality hence meaning she needed to if she didn't want to be reprimanded over again.

But here just on stand-by, she recognizes how much she is actually missing out on. Sure, she knows that she isn't the only one who can't be bothered with socializing and in an odd way that comforts her.

Feeling a slight buzzing from her pockets, she sees a text message from her brother.

_Chihiro, _

_Can't make it today, go home by yourself. Eat out, warm something up, cook, or buy a bento, whichever comes as a priority to you, just eat. Don't care how. _

_-Aoi _

_P.S. Your scowl is enough to send stalkers the other way anyways, so keep it on your face today moron. _

Pretty sure that the scowl he had previously mentioned is now gracing her face as she stares at the touch screen. Angrily typing in her reply, she doesn't notice the piece of paper that fell from her bag when she took out her cell.

_Aoi, _

_Yeah sure, I can manage. I'll eat out; you left your credit card at home for emergencies, right? Then consider this one, bastard. Don't mind the bill, kay? You said you wouldn't! _

_Just make sure to get home not reeking of woman perfume, alcohol, or whatever substance. Also preferably not before midnight (don't get sarcastic and go home at 11:40-11:59). _

_-Chihiro _

_P.S. Your face is ugly enough to drive girls away, but you somehow get laid. Make sure you don't get caught using 'things' into tricking them jerk. _

Pressing the send button, she makes her way down the road before her while not taking her headphones off the slightest. She keeps her phone in her hand just in case someone calls or texts her though she knows that the chances are in the negatives.

Humming along the way, she is still confused as to why those volleyball players try so hard when it's just a _club_. A part of her though is jealous at the fact that they are motivated enough for it, a motivation she herself cannot even find in order to find something she enjoys.

Walking down the streets, while facing the setting sun and admiring the way it paints the sky with warm colors in disarray, she doesn't notice the person who just arrives by the school gates. She didn't hear the footsteps nor did she notice the chatter for she was lost in a world where only music paved the path for her to take. A world of her own creation is what one can call it.

Oikawa Tooru was no doubt a gifted and talented setter whose abilities are completely above average, going far as to being able to bring out the team he's on abilities to a full 100%. Oikawa Tooru is somewhat the product of hard work and skills but he was not a genius born with a natural excellence. No. He wasn't a Kageyama Tobio whose throws are scarily precise and fast.

He brings out his team's potential to its peak and does not dictate his own team to move to what he thinks is needed.

And sometimes, he doesn't know what to make of that situation. He should be happy, that they still somewhat hold him in a higher regard than his _beloved _kouhai, but the anxiety was always behind him steadily approaching as Tobio is growing. The rate at which he is growing is for him, alarming. It never fails to remind him that the day when he is finally better than him is coming near and dare he say it, he is scared.

When the day comes that 'The King of the Court' doesn't rule based on his own expectations and regulations is a sight when he isn't sure if he wants to see.

As he approaches the gates, preparing to wait for Iwa-chan so that they'll go home together, he catches sight of blonde hair with ends dyed like cherries.

It may have been the wind that adds a slight ruffle to it, letting it gently sway as if dancing with the wind, it may have been the sunset that offers rays of light that bounce off the blonde's head, appearing like a halo on an angel, or it may have been the fact that she was looking at the distance, eyes painted with a bundle of emotions-confusion, loneliness, and a slight flicker of determination but at that moment, even though he wasn't scared every time he meets Ushiwaka, he was somehow rooted to the spot.

He doesn't know how long he stares at her while she observes, but he doesn't look away the slightest when she receives a text message.

Thanks to his perception, he manages to deduce the fact that the message itself annoyed her but at the same time he could see the slightest shift in her expression- one that expressed fondness. He watches as she types a message in, erases it, and types a new one in then reads it over and deeming it enough as a reply, hits the screen and once satisfied, walks off in the distance.

As if she was the reason of paralysis he had undergone, he was finally able to move again when she had left.

Approaching the area she just had left, he racks his brain wondering when he had met her, seeing as they went to the same school but comes up with nothing and visibly deflates. But he brightens up at the thought that even though they haven't actually been formally introduced, he has _heard _of that 'cherry dyed chick'. Though not good things, he has at least heard of her.

In accordance to what he did hear, they say that she was the daughter of a major contributor to the school, hence making the faculty excuse her unattached and uninterested behavior; they overlook her rule breaking too.

Nodding his head in a disappointed way, he ponders if society has really stooped that low.

But those thoughts are cut short when he realizes that she was a third year too, and had one of the best grades on campus, but they weren't classmates.

Facing upwards while closing his eyes, he rifles through his memories as if trying to recall what else he overheard about her, until one struck him.

"_**Ah, by 'cherry dyed' do you mean Akane-san? Akane Chihiro?" **_

His eyes snap open, suddenly recalling her name. 'Akane Chihiro, huh? You seem interesting.'

As he watches the dying minutes of the sunset as it leaves the stage for the night, he notices the crumpled piece of paper by his foot. Picking it up and slowly opening it as to not tear it apart, he manages to read it under the moonlight.

What he sees surprises him.

It was a sketch of him serving, as in the exact moment when his hands touch the ball, and he is astounded by the detail, the confident line strokes. He examines the drawing and finds the way someone drew his eyes intriguing. Even he himself finds it unrealistic that he actually looks like this.

His eyes roam all over the paper, carefully taking in each detail of the drawing, until they finally settle on the lower right portion of the paper.

_**-Akane Chihiro XX/XX/XXXX**_

The date surprises him again, as it was the date of the present. His lips fall into a smirk as he notes that she may have been watching him for quite a while now- a possibility yes, and quite farfetched but at least a _possibility_.

"Oi, Oikawa," a voice calls from behind him and he finds the ever reliable co-captain. "What are you doing here?"

"Iwa-chan~," the setter starts off placing his usual smile on his face- the one the person before him never thinks to be true. "Isn't it obvious? I was waiting, as to go home with you!"

The wing spiker looks at him incredulously and the gives in. "Fiiiiiine. You see, Iwa-chan, one of my dates couldn't ma-"

But he never finishes the sentence. "Baka! So what am I? Jeez, and you're the captain."

"Ah, is Iwa-chan jealous?" Oikawa says with an ever mockingly hopeful face.

"You wish."

Oikawa laughs as the two starts walking in line with each other. "Oikawa, what's that?"

The latter follows his gaze and lands on the paper in his hands, one that he somehow forgot he was holding. "Ah, it's a sketch of me." And he was met with a hit on the head.

"Jeez Iwa-chan! I just found it on the floor all crumpled up but it _is _a sketch of me! See?!" He then proceeds to rub the picture in the former's face, but it seemed as if Hajime was drawn to the name at the bottom instead.

"Akane… Chihiro?" His eyes widen as if realizing the name.

If Oikawa wondered who cherry dyed was back then, now he realized that she was probably someone he should look out for. Well, it was a bit unusual for Iwa-chan to know girls he didn't, so he takes that into consideration. Besides, this 'Akane Chihiro' seemed_… interesting._

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><p><strong>But Desperation is what makes them crash and burn.<strong>

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><p>AN:

Hey I just met you,  
>and this is crazy<br>but if you liked the story,  
>review me, maybe?<p> 


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